


Royal Blood Diamond

by AnikkNekoto



Series: Dark Tales & Fables [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Sexual Tension, Canon-Typical Tension, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kingdoms & Dragons, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Obsession, Platonic Love, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Tension So Thick You Could Cut It Like Butter, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29855676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnikkNekoto/pseuds/AnikkNekoto
Summary: Will is the young 20-year-old Prince of the Kingdom of Rystallis. The Royal Sword passed down from generation to generation within the Royal Family line has recognized Prince Will as its worthy wielder. His day of Ascension was supposed to be one of celebration and joy. That was of course, until that fateful night...
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Dark Tales & Fables [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158578
Comments: 14
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Dragon Blood series, 1_
> 
> **This story was inspired by the anime AKATSUKI NO YONA (Yona of the Dawn in English)**

****** 1 ******

It was a day of great celebration. 

The drums thumped. 

The trumpets trembled. 

The people filled the streets. 

The roaring cheers were loud and boisterous. 

Waves of bright faces filled with smiles. 

It was a day to be proud of their beloved Prince. And thus, the people of the  _ Kingdom of Rystallis _ celebrated with all their hearts, for today was their great Prince's coming of age ceremony. They cried tears of joy for the Prince's anticipated ascension. 

The Kingdom of Rystallis has long held the belief in the Dragon Gods. Thus, per the tradition, the first-born Prince who was to ascend to the title of Emperor was to perform the sacred sword dance. A ritual that symbolizes the offering of his own body in dedication to the Crystal Dragon foretold in the legends passed down through the Rystall people from generation to generation. 

From the large library of books and scrolls, the young Prince has read through since he was a child, it was written that the legendary Dragon blessed the people of Rystallis. Protecting them from invaders, famine, and pestilences.

The Prince strode to the top of an elegant balcony, looking over the beloved people of his kingdom. His head held high. He raised a hand to greet them. Beautiful diamond-blue eyes sparkled in thankfulness, love, and might. The Prince was beloved for his strength and intelligence — his eidetic memory was a skill to both envy and revere. 

He was loved like a god. 

But lest not also forget his great compassion and love for the people of the kingdom of Rystallis. For in return for their love, he dearly loved the people of his kingdom. 

All will soon be entrusted to him to care for. And the Prince would stake his very own life to protect and defend his people.

The Prince's father, the Emperor, silently watched over his son from the other side of the Palace. This was a day dedicated all to his beloved son. And yet, not even this could make the Emperor feel the need to leave his wing of the Palace. The last place his  _ beloved _ breathed her last...

The Emperor has long since cared for his son since the day he was born. He was the fruit of their love. But every day, as the Prince grew older and strong, his enchantingly graceful features would become even more reminiscent of the late Empress. From the slight curls of his smooth dark chocolate hair. To his nimble hands and gentle smile. _ They all remind me of you, my love...  _ The Emperor sighed with a profound ache in his chest. 

He solemnly gazed at his son.  _ If only you could see him now, my dear Empress. You would be as proud of him as I. _

Oh, how the Emperor's number one pride was truly Prince William. But, he hadn't always been there for his son. The grief in his heart always spiking whenever he drew too close to his child, wedging a sometimes violent chasm between them. 

The Emperor just didn't want to know that grave sense  _ lost _ ever again...  _ Excuses. _

So the Emperor could be said to be a coward...  _ More excuses.  _ And the Emperor would silently but wholeheartedly agree with that...

Flowers of confetti shot into the air, coloring the delightful blue skies with pretty rainbows. Even the thick grief of one such powerful man wasn't enough to disturb the happiness exuding from the people.

"Our beloved Prince!" The crowd cheered.

"Prince William!" They smiled.

"Long live our Prince!"

The loyal knights and courts joined in with the celebration. The merry tone of the people was enough to have one feeling joyful.

"My Prince, it is time. The people greatly look forward to your words of wisdom," one of the members of the Emperor's royal court informed his Prince.

The young nineteen— No, the now twenty-year-old nodded. Awkwardly touching the side of his small, silver crown.

The court man's dark hair like long shadows on the walls draped over his equally fathomless eyes as he bowed his head. Then slowly, he walked up to the Prince. In his hands was their kingdom's traditional symbol of the next heir, the golden sword, decorated with crystalized steel said to have been forged through pure dragon fire and metals found only inside of volcanoes. And its hilt a pure obsidian sheen that entrances all who looks upon it. 

It was a beautiful sword, but a very deadly one. And the young Prince will soon demonstrate that very quality, as though it were an extension of his own body.

The man politely knelt down and honorably presented the Royal Sword to his young and future Emperor. The Prince graciously accepted it with a humbled word of thanks. Brightly smiling as he did.

The court man simply thought it was expected of him to serve his admirable Prince. He bowed and stepped back.

One so young had done so much good for their kingdom already. The kingdom was steadily climbing through their recession. Crime rates have gone down due to the Prince's new policy of reforming rather than severely punishing. Wars narrowly avoided through negotiations.  _ He's done so many feats... much more than the current Emperor ever cared to... _

After the Prince finished delivering a thankful speech, promising further peace, stability, and prosperity, he proceeded to step down the many steps leading up to the large Palace doors.

Fluttering his heavy silver cape, which complemented his captivating blue eyes, the Prince swishes several heavy garments off. His personal attendants gladly took the pieces of cloth and equipment for their Prince, folding his clothes neatly for when the Prince would don them back on.

Revealed to have been underneath the Prince's armor was a long, white silk robe and pants with fluttering extensions from the arms and legs. It looked as though his highness, the Prince had soft feathery wings. 

Beneath the robe was a light-blue dress-shirt adorned with golden ribbons and stashes. It was as though the Prince's body was protected by the cloud themselves, raining with gold. A promise of prosperity for his people, and his beloved Kingdom.

Readying his sword stance, the Prince took a heavy breath in and out. The fluttering silk stilled themselves as the Prince stood motionlessly. As though he were a beautiful statue.

The lean muscles and ready-to-spring power of the Prince's body were ready to demonstrate to the people and court of Rystallis that he is truly the Royal-blooded Prince. Many women and men in the Kingdom swooned over their young and able-bodied Prince, admiring his peerless form.

The Prince closed his eyes. Drowning in the noise of the outside world from within himself. Taking in the force and energy of nature itself.

A second ticked by. 

Then another. 

Then another...

Then finally...

The Prince jumped. He fluttered into the air as though he were actually a flying dragon. 

The crowd wowed as the treasured sword of the Royal family seamlessly danced within the palms of the Prince's hands, never once harming his body despite how close the metal sheened next to his fair, unmarred skin. 

Hauntingly crystal-blue eyes glowed brighter under the light of the sun. The sword itself shined in the Prince's hands, reflecting that powerful light.

It was a spectacle. 

It was enchanting.

No other previous Prince had ever handled the Royal sword as gracefully as Prince William seemed to be able to. It was as though the sword was a natural part of his body. Like the great claws and breath of a Dragon, it was a weapon only a mighty being can effortlessly control and bend to its will. And here it was, spinning alongside the agile Prince.

Surely, this is another cause for celebration, for even the Holy Sword passed down through the Rystallis's Royal line since the dawn of the Gods recognized their beloved Prince as the worthiest of them all.

_ Whoosh. _

_ The Prince danced. _

_ Swish. _

_ The Sword and Prince seemed to have become one in spirit and mind. _

_ Flutter. _

_ The Sword sparkled, giving the illusion of wings. _

_ Twirl. _

The beautiful white, silk robes slowly fluttered down, lightly touching back down to the Earth. 

The Prince elegantly extended the sword forward, palms holding up from the hilt and blade. Then he swept down into a final bow, signifying the end of the dance.

The people were still silent, emotionally captivated by the fading visage of their new Sword Saint.

"Prince William!" They began to cheer.

"So daunting! So charismatic! So beautiful!" Squealed both the aristocratic and normal citizens.

The High Priest accepted the Royal blade. Even that chaste and religious man's appealing sharp face, but gentle manner didn't hold a candle to the Prince's favored, almost mesmerizing charm.

The Prince returned the sharp blade into its sheath. 

"His highness, Prince William is  _ Ascended!" _ The Priest's voice resounded. His hair like the sun glowed as he drew the finishing incantations on the sheath of the blade. "Prince William, this blade has recognized you. May the Gods continue to smile down upon you." His robes swayed as he kneeled to his Prince with the sheathed blade.

William nodded, accepting the holy sword back and clipping it onto his waist. He then turned to face his people again. They bowed on their knees to their newly  _ Ascended  _ Prince. 

Admirable confidence and nobility exuded from the Prince as he waved to his people. He was greatly thankful for them coming to the Palace grounds to support his ascension. 

As the cheers roared up again, the Prince calmly strode back towards the Palace doors. But once those doors shut, and he was finally out of sight, the young Prince wobbled on his feet, only able to save himself from completely falling over due to the help of his closest aide and friend who always seemed to unfailingly be at his side.

"Will," the tall man's amber eyes glowed with a small trace of worry. His firm hands and strong, broad shoulders supported the Prince on his feet. "Are you alright, my Prince?"

"Yes," Will tried to calm his breathing. "Sorry. Thank you, Hannibal. Just tired. Felt like I just had my very soul drained of energy." He smiled to reassure his aide and friend.

"It is both my duty as your aide to assist you, as well as my own desire to as your closest friend to do so."

"Are you my closest friend?" Will humored.

"So long you want me to be." Hannibal's body heat leaned closer to Will. His eyes were serious.

Will lightly nudged him, tapping his beautiful golden mane of hair.  _ It was always soft and nice to touch. _ He leaned closer. Feeling safe in his friend's warmth and strength. "Of course you are, ever since we were kids none are as dear a friend to me than you."

Hannibal's shoulders seemed to release some of the tension held in them. His eyes shined a confident sneakiness to them. "Of course I am."

_ The arrogant prick. _

Will flicked his friend's broad shoulder, somewhat pouting. But no one would be able to tell that he was feeling rather playful, except for Hannibal. "Your sense of grandiose is, as usual, perfect." 

Mirth filled the blonde's tone. "And you are a perfect friend Will," he assured and gave a rare small smile, which was quite the feat to elicit from him. Most people would think of Hannibal as an emotionless machine. A perfect negotiator that struck fear into rival kingdoms. Always seeming to have the upper hand in any deal with a table full of nobles, kings, and high-ranking officials. All of whom were well versed in the game of the deal.

Will's eyes honed in on that small curl. Smiling brightly in return.  _ (How is it that Hannibal's smiles were this infectious?) _

"Or shall I call you  _ My Ascended Prince  _ now? As that is your new and proper title." Hannibal said in a gentle but seriously considering tone.

"There is no need for title distinctions between us, Hannibal. You are my best friend. I'll always just be Will to you."

"Only in public then."

"Hannibal..."

"Will." 

Will knew that he always used that sterner tone for things he refuses to relent to. Thus, it would waste both their time and breath going back and forth.

The Prince sighed. "Fine. It's a compromise."

"A compromise it is."

Will sighed again, feeling defeated in Hannibal's presence was a common thing. And that was only just a glimpse at Hannibal's great negotiating skills. But if that wasn't enough to marvel at, Hannibal's skill with the sword and hand-to-hand combat was viciously terrifying. 

Will once boasted that Hannibal was most likely the kingdom's best knight, even if he was mostly inside the Palace grounds with Will. When he went up against Francis Dolarhyde, the Grand Knight Commander and the Sun Clan's monstrous General, he'd won many of their duels. 

The Prince himself would probably be ranked fifth in terms of skills. He had, after all, been taught by one of Crystal Palace's best. Jack Crawford, the Head Knight of the Imperial Guard.

The Head Imperial Guard watched over Will since he first opened his eyes. The man was the one who taught Will how to use a sword since he was six. But Will just wasn't very confident of himself. Perhaps stemming from such a rigid lifestyle imposed on him by his father since he was a child. For the Emperor had always been quite distant with Will. Sympathetic voices throughout the palace cited that it was a husband's grief over his late wife as the reason for the neglect.

Will understood his father. Still loved him through it. He had Hannibal by his side, always lessening the gaping loneliness he's always felt, so it wasn't too bad. But sometimes, just sometimes, he wished his father would turn and look at the Prince as his own separate person. He's not just a ghostly resemblance of the Emperor's heart's longing

When he was young, the Prince once wished on a falling star while he and Hannibal were stargazing together. It was an embarrassing story, but luckily, only Hannibal knows.

The young Prince's wish was for his father to turn those hollow eyes towards his people, to diligently serve their kingdom as an Emperor was supposed to, and most especially, to see Will as just Will.

Will sighed, subconsciously leaning closer to Hannibal, while the other led him to his room. At least now, the Prince was closer to being the Emperor himself. So he made a vow: he will create a kingdom where his people can be happy without the fear of starvation and war, and he will create a kingdom that his father can proudly smile upon.

As he was reminiscing, Will also recalled being heavily tutored under Jack. While Hannibal was taught under Lady Murasaki, also nicknamed  _ The Sword Saint. _ Or just  _ That Bloody Saint _ by an irritated Jack. For the two veteran knights seemed to have a long-standing rivalry with each other. Extending from their grand exploits on the battlefield to their pupils. They even regularly had Will and Hannibal spar with each other as a test and show of strength. 

It made somewhat sense, because Jack was the former Water Clan General, and Lady Murasaki was the former Fire Clan General. But their heated rivalry didn't really affect how the two boys eventually formed a strong friendship with each other. 

While Hannibal marveled at Will's skills, Will appreciated Hannibal's honesty despite being in the presence of the Prince. 

Since they were young, they would still occasionally spar with each other. And still, most of the time Will lost. But sometimes, just sometimes, it would end in a draw. 

It was on those days that Will became extra chatty.

"Hey Hannibal, remember the first time our duel ended in a draw?"

_ A young Will would always run-up to an also young Hannibal after every spar, eyes sincerely admiring the amber-eyed boy's strength and deadly serpent-like precision. _

His blonde friend looked at him and nodded, "Yes, I remember."

_ Two swords sparked as they clashed, they were dull and made only for sparring, but would still cause quite the bruising if hit by them. _

_ Crystal-like eyes seemed to glow. He found an opening, and moving like the wind, he launched his sword upwards with the intent of disarming his sparring partner, a young blonde man. _

_ Clang!  _

_ Thud. Thump. Thud. Thump. _

_ Hearts pounded.  _

_ The two swords sparked one more time, and both launched each other away. The clanging metal fell several feet away from their wielders. They had both disarmed at almost the same time. _

_ "That was amazing!" Young, twelve-year-old Will's eyes sparkled the colors of a beautiful blue diamond. "It's my loss." _

_ A young sixteen-year-old Hannibal would silently glance at the young Prince. Seemingly indifferent. Aloof. Distant. Never once speaking back. But it would seem that young Will didn't mind. Hannibal was never reprimanded or punished for behaving rudely to the Prince because Will always got angry on his behalf. In fact, the young Prince never stopped being friendly despite how cold Hannibal's exterior was. _

_ But this one day, the young Hannibal finally decided to speak back. _

_ "Prince William, well done. You disarmed me and won." The young Hannibal slightly dipped his head, never before having done that even after hundreds of sparring sessions forced upon them by their respected tutors' rivalry with each other. _

_ "No," young Will looked into those dark, marvelously amber and gold eyes. Never once looking away, or demeaning their unnatural color. "We both disarmed each other, so it's a draw." _

_ Young Hannibal tilted his head. Staring at a young Will as though he were trying to put the pieces of this puzzle that were 'Will' together.  _

_ "You're amazing as well, in a way." _

_ "You're amazing too, in an interesting way." Young Will smirked back. _

_ The young Hannibal grew silent again. Gazing straight into Will's enchantingly blue eyes like gemstones. He didn't see any hint of deception. Nor forced flattery. Or insincere words. It was actually... honest... And real... _

_ "Pardon my vocabulary, Prince William," Hannibal said slowly, "But do you really mean that?" _

_ "Of course. I'm not a liar." _

_ Amber orbs widened. Understanding that the young Prince was indeed being truthful, always had been.  _

_ The young blonde boy grew quiet again.  _

_ Will silently gazed at him. Picking out the weird feeling that perhaps the blonde boy disliked being read. _

_ The air around Hannibal quickly became suspenseful as two amber orbs unflinchingly stared back at Will's unconsciously probing eyes. Causing the younger Will to slightly squirm and avert his eyes. It felt as though two lasers were burrowing holes into him, picking him apart.  _

_ 'Was this what others felt Will's gaze was like?' _

_ "S-sorry... I didn't mean to look so close..." The Prince mumbled. _

_ "My Prince, look at me," Hannibal finally spoke.  _

_ Will slowly trailed his eyes back up, focusing on the young man's nose rather than his eyes. _

_ "It's alright... Only you can look." _

_ 'Oh, he doesn't dislike being read... it was just... unfamiliar... intriguing...' _

_ Will courageously gazed directly into the young boy's eyes, they seemed to shift to a more golden color. It was pretty. He also thought that Will's eyes were interesting... pretty even... _

_ Realizing that made the Prince flush a slight pink. _

_ "I would like to know, my Prince," a young Hannibal interrupted his thoughts, "Are you just stupid? Didn't you listen to the adults and the other children's whisperings about me?" _

_ "Yes? No?" Will shrugged his shoulders, more relaxed than a person should be feeling as Hannibal had essentially just insulted his intellect.  _

_ But Will knew he didn't mean it that way. His eyes and minimal body language conveyed that much at least.  _

_ "Yes to probably being stupid. I know. Jack tells me that all the time. But actually no to what those nasty adults say about you, because I just don't care." _

_ "You really are stupid." The blonde hummed. It was a surprise to see the young Hannibal actually quirk a true smile, even if it was to make fun of a young Will. "Didn't you hear about me being a heartless, bloodthirsty soldier and child of demons?" _

_ Will huffed in feign indignation. "Oh, you're also forgetting that story of you being a machine too. But guess what?" Young Will smirked while leaning over to young Hannibal's ear.  _

_ Hannibal tipped his head to accommodate the shorter boy's stature.  _

_ "I'm apparently the ghost of the west wing, here to steal all of Secretary Zeller's pens and Court librarian Price's hidden jar of cookies, which he thinks is cleverly hidden behind the bookshelf in his office." _

_ Young Hannibal found himself snorting in amusement. Something that bewildered even himself. But it didn't feel bad... it was nice. _

_ "Jiiiimmy!" A man's voice suddenly roared from inside the palace.  _

_ "What?! You don't have to shout, Brian!" A shorter but intimidatingly stern man in a white robe strode up to the secretary. _

_ Will's smaller hand quickly took Hannibal's, tugging him into the bushes without warning to hide. And Hannibal simply let him. He's never allowed anyone to pull him along their whims so much before, until Will that is.  _

_ Will peeked the top of his head out first, then Hannibal copied.  _

_ "Shh." The young Prince hushed him.  _

_ Both boys are now situated in the perfect spot to watch the entertainment begin. _

_ "I'm not shouting! You're shouting!" Ruffled dark hair puffed with glaring eyes. _

_ "You're shouting right now!"  _

_ "Anyway, that's not important! Have you seen my favorite feathered quill? My other pens are missing too..." _

_ The librarian shrugged. _

_ "You took them... Didn't you?!" _

_ "How dare you accuse me of taking your vulgar writing tools! I only use the finest styluses based on the tools the ancient Greeks used." _

_ "Oh? Then who did?" _

_ "How about you! You stole my cookie jar, didn't you?!" _

_ "What?! How dare you accuse me of stealing?!" _

_ "You accused me first!" _

_ "You lying bookworm!" _

_ "The books did nothing wrong!" _

_ The secretary and librarian continued loudly bickering, to the point they started throwing punches at each other.  _

_ Everyone knew not to mess with Secretary Zeller's beloved quills and Librarian Price's favored sweets. Though they mostly stayed within the Palace's walls nowadays, they used to be knights under Jack's command. _

_ The two men started to draw quite the commotion and crowd of observers. All the while, Will and Hannibal snickered in their little bush hideaway. They sat on the grass together. Lazed around side-by-side together. Soon, they began to exchange stories with each other. _

_ "Zeller! Price!" Boomed a loud and intimidating Jack. _

_ Both young Hannibal and Will continued chatting with each other despite the commotion in the palace, or more like the young Prince one-sidedly wondered about many random things that young Hannibal seemed oddly knowledgeable about. _

_ "Will. Call me Will from now on." _

_ "If that's what my Prince wishes." _

_ "Will," the young Prince insisted with a small pout on his face, which Hannibal found cute. _

_ "My Prince Will then." _

_ Young Will huffed. "Alright. A compromise." _

_ Young Hannibal tilted his head. "A compromise it is." _

_ Though the Prince was energetic, young Hannibal seemed simply content with listening to young Will's stories about his various interests and antics. Only commenting here and there to help drive the Prince's craving for knowledge and friendship. _

_ Naturally, they became close friends, almost like true brothers. _

Looking back on it now, it seemed as if it was inevitable that the two young boys fostered a close bond that lasted even till this day. It was as though it were a predestined meeting spanning from several lifetimes.

It was supposed to be a happy occasion, that was of course, until that  _ fateful night... _

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


"How could you... you of all people betray me...?" Clear droplets that refused to fall pooled into Will's eyes, but he would rather die than show weakness. Rather fall than cry out in the agony that burned in his chest.

Knights donned in unfamiliar dark armor surrounded him. They all looked like demons to Will. 

His back was trapped between the dark entourage and the edge of the cliff, creating a fine line between him and the rolling seas.

A familiar tall figure parted through the dark sea of pointed armor and masked individuals. Inching closer to Will with gentle promises he once adored, but now they just wrench his heart apart.

"My precious, perfect diamond, I would never betray you. I would never even think of it. This, I do, is all for the best. Everything that I am is for you. Everything is for your benefit. Please come back, mylimasis. Take my hand and come back with me." 

A tempting hand was outstretched.

Golden orbs glowed as warm as a fire. 

It was cold, for the winds grew stronger the closer you are to the cliff.

Oh, how Will just wanted to take that warm hand. To be in the arms of that warmth that had always comforted him.

And Will could see himself easily accepting that hand that wanted to pull him away from the cliffside. That wanted him to forget. 

So Will's heart despaired, desperately wishing for time to reverse and go back to the days when they would talk side-by-side. Sit side-by-side. Leisurely laid down on the grass side-by-side. Will was always just content that the other's presence was always there. But now, it was just a wistful dream...

Prince Will looked through his tear-stricken eyes and forced his feet to shuffle nearer to the edge of the cliff. 

The raging waves below bellowed as though crying as loud as his heart.

"No."

"Will." His ex-friend's tone lowered. Entrapping arms carefully edged closer to Will, wanting to just simply grab him, but afraid that any sudden movement would make his beloved Prince jump.

"I won't go back with you."

And with those last words, Will turned and fell down into the deep abyss...

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚫●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dragons and kingdom stories are just my cup of tea 😁 throw in the angst and drama and I'll drool lol. 
> 
> I'll definitely add more chapters to this story, but it could also just be read as a stand-alone. I was going to add more to the first chapter, but couldn't bear to continue after that jump scene because that end was just too good of a stopping point 😆. I'm ready for your pitch-forks Lolololol.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.  
> \- Cya on my next story (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (New Tag Added. Thank you YingZhang.)
> 
> Updates on which stories I'm currently working on my profile dashboard. You can check what I'm up to if you get curious, or just wondering why an update is taking a while. I usually update my status there in case anything comes up that needs my attention. 😁👍

****** 2 ******

_Chirp. Chirp._

"...."

"..?!"

_Crunch._ The rustling of brittle leaves.

"W......"

"......?"

Something sounded like mumble nonsense...

_...Who?_

.

.

.

_He blinked his eyes, a stinging sensation irritating them._

_"Wha...?"_

_Will's eyes felt wet._

_Then he remembered that he had been furiously wiping away any and all the traces that he had been crying._

_For crying out loud, Will was fourteen now. In just six years from now, he'll be of age — a proper adult. And a proper adult shouldn't be such a baby._

_He's not weak._

_He doesn't want to be weak..._

_He's angry then._

_He furiously scratched at his eyes again, until even the skin beneath them also started to bleed and hurt as his arms did._

_Will loves his father. He truly does... And he knows that his father loves him back too. But..._

_The boy raked his nails into the dirt beneath his feet._

_Sometimes... just sometimes, he felt as though he hated him. Hated everyone who pushed him aside. Hated the Royal concubine's children... Hated Randall..._

_Perhaps it was this palace that made him so hateful..._

_He didn't want to be ungrateful._

_He didn't want to be that ungrateful, hateful child of the Emperor, that his step-siblings were already accusing him of being._

_Will's eyes stung again._

_He couldn't even properly hold onto that anger despite knowing how terrible his step-siblings treated him._

_"Will?"_

_A young Will shook and looked up, startled by the sudden appearance of two amber eyes and golden hair._

_The face of the other boy started to lean closer through the bush, closely observing Will._

_"H-Hannibal?!" The young Prince quickly turned his head away. His nose was still a bit red, and his eyes puffy and really itchy. "Ha... haha, what brings you over here?" An attempt to lighten his voice, but still failing due to the slight tremble and sniffles._

_'This wasn't a good time.'_

_"How'd you even find me?" He tried to shift the attention._

_"Your scent."_

_Will twitched. Suddenly, he felt self-conscious again. The Prince sniffed at his reddened-sleeves, wincing a bit as the soft fabric rubbed against his fresh scrapes._

_Hannibal crawled through the bush, staring down at Will. "My Prince, won't you turn and look at me?"_

_Will twitched again. Using that gentle voice wasn't fair, because that always made him wanna listen. So young Will grumbled, trying his best to ignore him._

_But the blonde-haired boy's sharp presence refused to leave and continued to prickle at the Prince's anxiety._

_Finally, the Prince reluctantly turned and slowly faced his friend. Still averting direct eye contact with the blonde boy by focusing on the collar of his dark gray shirt instead._

_He heard Hannibal's soft, audible sigh of frustration. Only the bubbly young Prince Will seems to be able to elicit these lowly expressions of emotions from Hannibal. Which, to this day, still surprised the blonde boy himself._

_"So did you finally decide that, indeed, it is disgusting to look at me?"_

_"What?!" Will glared his eyes up. Blue eyes burned with anger on behalf of Hannibal's amber-colored irises. "Of course not! Who told you those things?!" Will grabbed onto his sleeve, initiating eye and physical contact. "Don't misunderstand, that's not what this is about!"_

_"Oh," the young Hannibal knowingly smirked, he didn't need to look into Will's eyes to know what he's feeling. He's been by the young Prince's side for long enough to know as much already._

_Hannibal gently tapped Will's hand, then gestured around the little hidey-hole the small Prince had snuck himself into. He pointed back to the Prince in question._

_"Then what is this about?"_

_The young Prince suddenly paled. He found himself unknowingly caught in Hannibal's trap of word twisters._

_"Curses," Will huffed, then haughtily tilted his chin up to preserve at least some of his princely dignity. "What if I don't wanna talk to you about it?" His bright blue gaze was no longer bright, even as he stared directly at Hannibal._

_Hannibal thought for a moment. Taking in the details of the Prince's diamond-like eyes. Finding it odd that they looked different from their normal glow. And it's a shame because his Prince's eyes looked better when they were happily glowing without a care in the world._

_"Then you don't have to." Hannibal finally said, surprising even Will with how easily he relented._

_Will flinched. Then slowly nodded as though in understanding._

_He turned his gaze away from Hannibal's eyes and sadly downcasted his head. Expecting the blonde boy to probably leave him alone from now on._

_No one wanted the company of a neglected Prince, after all. If those angry red marks and purple bruises weren't enough of a sign... Father had been too stressed today... and the concubine's oldest son, Randall, had been a tad-bit violent today... but that's okay..._

_'Episodes like that were only temporary...'_

_The little Prince could only hope so much..._

_The small, little Prince could only wish on a star so much..._

_Lost in his thoughts, the chipping of fallen sticks and crunching leaves brought Will's mind back to his little hidey-hole._

_Instead of leaving like Will thought Hannibal would, the other boy was forcing his way through the bush to get right next to him. Puffs of leaves caught in the boy's golden hair. Then he shoved the smaller Prince over a bit and took up half of the space of the hiding spot, which laid beneath the burrow under the canopy of a large cherry tree and bramble bushes._

_"What are you doing?!" The young Prince squeaked at the invader. Bumping shoulder to shoulder with Hannibal._

_But being the stronger of the two, Hannibal simply ignored his protests. Locking his amber eyes onto Will's trembling form, and silently subduing rebellion._

_"Wh... what?" Will stuttered. Cheeks puffing as he desperately tried not to flush under the boy's intense gaze._

_Hannibal continued to stare at him._

_It was as though he could see further than the surface of his skin. As if Hannibal needed only to reach his fingers forward to touch his soul. And that was an odd and new feeling for Will. To know that there was someone that could pay that close of attention to him. Usually, the Prince abhorred the gazes of those who walk through the Palace hallways. Those people's eyes were usually cold like Hannibal's, but distasteful unlike Hannibal's._

_Will didn't have a problem with taste. Those nobles were the ones who had a problem with bitter things because that's what their faces always looked like when they came to the Palace._

_The only ones who really took the time to look after the Prince were his attendants and tutors, but it was their duty to do so. The underlying threat of death should something happen to a member of the Royal family was a prime motivator. But that's just it. Most people only saw him as Prince William first, and not as the boy named Will._

_Only Hannibal saw him._

_Only Hannibal called him Will._

_It was the first time someone ever openly spoke his mind to Will. He was thankful for it. So in return, Will took Hannibal's hand and showed him the world._

_He brought him to his favorite fishing spots._

_Gifted him Librarian Price's stolen cookie jars._

_Petted the stray dogs that sometimes visited the gates._

_Crawled through the hidden holes in the walls that led to secret passageways._

_Gave him a hooded-cloak for disguising purposes._

_Showed him the fastest routes through town._

_And took him to his favorite bakery._

_Will showed him everything. Even the forests. The birds. The rivers. The lakes. And the hills were the best places to stargaze from. It was as though they were living in a wistful fairytale. For like Will, Hannibal has never had anyone show him, or even tell him of such things before. It was only the Prince who helped Hannibal realize that there was a beautiful world out there... And that it seemed even more beautiful when Will walked around in it._

_Brushing the leaves from his hair, Hannibal gradually settled down next to Will. He was satisfied at having claimed his own spot in Will's half burrow hiding place. "You can tell me all in your own time." He hummed. "You don't need to do anything you don't want to."_

_A peaceful silence quickly permeated their little hideaway after the boy's words._

_Hannibal gently curled his fingers over Will's dirty ones from having scratched at the ground in anger. A touch that Will would have normally felt revolted with had it been anyone else. But it was Hannibal, so it was okay. It was a gesture of comfort, assuring Will that he'll always be here._

_Blue eyes gazed at Hannibal. Melding emotions of pain and hurt instantly transformed into wonder._

_To think that such a simple act of touch could make one feel instantly better. It was as though Will could feel the honesty of those words from the usually quiet and expressionless Hannibal in his very soul. And he found that it was, actually, quite the addicting feeling._

_Will leaned close, subconsciously relying on the blonde's support._

_Will wasn't paying attention, or just wasn't present in mind right now, but Hannibal's chest fluttered. And his amber eyes seemed to glow a brighter gold than ever before._

_After a few seconds transpired, Will started absent-mindedly fiddling with the last stick and leaf still stuck in the other boy's soft hair. He thought, 'Hannibal probably conditions it regularly.'_

_Will plucked the leaf attached to the stick from the boy's hair and held it in his palms, showing it to him. "Looks like an antler." He smiled playfully._

_A simple heart-shaped leaf that fell when its branch was tugged off._

_"It's a pretty golden color, like your eyes," Will said naturally._

_It grew silent again._

_Just now noticing the silence, the Prince quickly became anxious again. He thought that his thoughtless words must have offended his friend. And he was gravely worried. He didn't want to lose his only friend. So Will took a cautious glance up at Hannibal's face. But instead of anger, he saw the most bizarre thing he's ever seen in his whole fourteen-years of running around this planet..._

_The tips of Hannibal's ears ever so slightly tinged a pale pink. The older boy's eyebrows lifted so high that he looked terrified. But he really wasn't. His eyes slightly gaped as though flabbergasted, and the skin right below also tinged a slight pink that would be easy to miss if you were not so good at reading other people's expressions as Will was._

_Gradually comprehending what exactly he just witnessed, Will's smile turned into a sly fox. "Never thought I'll see the day you'll blush."_

_Hannibal didn't quite glare, but he honed his contrastingly both frigid and fiery eyes onto Will. Amber-colored eyes closed, then blinked back open. "I recall you being the one who uttered such embarrassing things."_

_Young Will simply hummed, looking right through the boy's masked defenses of indifference. Chuckling because those do not work on him anymore._

_Hannibal suddenly felt compelled to gather the leaves on the ground. So he smushed the colorful shaped leaves onto the top of Will's head, scrambling them into his hair._

_"Hey!" The Prince huffed, arms tangling with Hannibal's. Leaf pieces scattered all around them as they scuffled._

_Hannibal held his wrist down. "There." He then scooted back to marvel at his work. "Now you have long ears and horns."_

_Will twisted himself off the ground and shook the leaves off his head like a wet dog._

_He smirked._

_The young Prince threw those same leaves back at Hannibal, making the other boy look as though he had an extra pair of eyes._

_The two laughed at the ridiculousness of what they were both doing, all the while unceasing in their leaf fight._

_But after a few minutes, both boys huffed, trying to catch their breaths._

_As they laid on the ground of the floor beneath the tree and hidden by the bushes, the Prince suddenly had an idea. He took Hannibal's hand and cheerfully said, "C'mon, let's go."_

_Will tugged Hannibal through the little opening under the bramble bushes._

_He skipped along the Palace floor as though there were feathers beneath his toes, while still tightly holding onto Hannibal's hand._

_The teen simply let his small Prince pull him along his whims again. He looked unbothered by it, indifferent even. But unbeknownst to everyone but Will, on the inside, Hannibal was actually excited for what more the little Prince was going to show him._

_Will's earlier sadness was forgotten. It all just felt like a bad dream. One that Hannibal chased away for him._

_Only constant laughter let the lips of a beautiful, blue-eyed boy, echoing throughout the halls of the Palace. It seemed powerful enough to infect even the grimmest and expressionless teen. And the one in question himself didn't seem to notice, but there was a smile that refused to leave his face while the Prince held his hand._

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


It was night now. Will was completely spent after a whole day of celebrating his _Ascension._ It irked him that the nobles only wanted his fame — the power behind his title. All they saw was a Prince of Rystallis, who by associating themselves with, could raise the standing of themselves and their families within the hierarchy of the nobility.

_Those power-hungry, plotting pricks._

Will shifted himself up from his bed and leaned back against the headboard. He rubbed his temples. Feeling a headache coming on, he closed his eyes.

He already wasn't the type that liked socializing. But it was his Princely obligation to do so in the Emperor's stead. He's hidden his true feelings on that particular matter rather well, so far. Hidden it behind a veil, the facade of a Princely figure and endless handsome smiles. Only Hannibal, Jack, Lady Murasaki, Alana, and probably Zeller and Price knew that part of his personality which disliked being the center of attention. Perhaps, it was because he was never given the chance to grow a tolerance of it since he was young. 

The Emperor rarely even left the Northern wing of the Palace. Meaning that Will rarely got to even speak with him. Thus, the attention-starved Prince never got used to having such lavish attention focused on him.

The people within the Prince's Eastern wing of the Palace have all noticed his aversion to the touch of those he did not know well. So as you can imagine, it was utterly exhausting on Will to have to politely cater to the large gathering of nobles and officials whose only interest was in political talks and flattering words. 

The Prince had smiled so much that it felt as though the muscles in his cheeks were going to fall off. 

Will rubbed his temples harder, sighing as he reached for the glass of water on the nightstand by his bed. He needed some Aspirin.

While thinking to himself, Will suddenly shivered in anger as he recalled there being one noble at the banquet trying to preemptively set him up with one of his daughters. And if that wasn't bad enough, the man did so while harassing one of the older maids Will liked because she had cared for him since he was a child. She was like a parental-figure to him.

The glass of water _cracked,_ as Will squeezed it a bit too hard.

Just recalling that noble's face made Will feel filthy.

Oh, how Will just wanted to shove his knuckles into that lecherous noble's jaw. And he would have done it, uncaring of the consequences. For the safety of his people comes second to none. 

But Hannibal had preemptively stopped him. Knowingly understanding Will's intent before anyone else.

Instead of physically hurting him like Will wanted to, Hannibal went the other route. One that could even be seen as far more merciless, than if Will just socked the man in the jaw. And what a spectacle it was to watch the blonde so easily and utterly destroy that corrupted noble's political career. Shaming the man's fraudulent use of funds by diverting them to a fake Trades House. Hannibal even noted all the man's outside excursions that were falsely recorded as business trips, when in actuality, he was visiting his many affairs. 

Will pitied the wife of this horrid man.

Hannibal had all the records brought forth. He had unrolled all the scrolls that closely documented the nobleman's schemes right in front of his face. In the presence of all of the fellow peerage. 

It simply amazed Will, for it looked as though Hannibal had already planned to do this a long time ago. And maybe he had. And maybe it was just to please the Prince, who had been relieved to see that the nobleman had been utterly backed into a corner. 

While Hannibal marveled at the vicious look in his Prince's eyes, to the cowardly noble, Will's serious and icy expression was utterly terrifying. Even the Prince's knights and retainers who revered him feared his eyes. For they knew that Will does not tolerate any seeds of corruption. And all who so brazenly attempt to do so in his highness' presence, like this fellow of a man, will face righteous wrath. 

See, the Prince can also be as merciless as Hannibal. And to all of the Palace retainers, it made for a terrifying combo. That one could only imagine how terrifying their combined strength was to the rivaling nations eyeing the Kingdom of Rystallis's wealth and assets.

The Prince's benevolent smile was nowhere to be seen as he glared down at the noble who had nothing left to rebuttal with. 

Will had personally stripped the noble's title, and because his crime was corruption, the man was to be jailed and await his official trial within three days. 

On the day of his trial, he will be publically sentenced so that all may know of his crimes. Then, and only then, he will be sent off to the correctional facility. Where he may receive the appropriate punishment as dictated by the Prince's justice. Though the death penalty was sparingly used — only upon those who partake in treason, murder, or acts of terror — the punishment was still harsh. 

The Prince intended to reform criminals, and such a process does not come so easily, or without cost.

A noble, whose title has been personally stripped from him by the Prince, receives a harsher sentence than those of the peasantry, and that of nobles who were allowed to keep their titles. But the end goal was still to achieve reformation and re-education. Thus, the disgraceful man of a noble would be afforded the right to study and visitations. The only right that was completely restricted from him was liberty.

It was the cost of treating the beloved people of Will's cherished kingdom as fools.

With a swift wave of his hand, Will ordered his guards to take the trembling man to the dungeons. Essentially, 'to get him out of his sight.'

Per the Prince's new justice policy, after the trial, the man was to be left in the isolation room for ten days. There, he was expected to reflect. And his only company would be the four plain gray walls and the person assigned to deliver his food and books. Afterward, he will go through the entire _In-Prison_ procedure of punishment.

The Prince glanced back at Hannibal, watching the colors of his eyes slightly shift. He understood that the blonde man still thought of it as too light of a punishment. Even though Will's new policies have been noted to have wrought gradually increasing success of lowered crime rates. Hannibal still believed, and feared, that one day his Prince's bleeding compassion may end with Will having a sword threatened at his throat. 

And while Will often played off his dear friend's worries with jokes and confident smiles, that particular theme just seemed to be a major factor that often caused spars and arguments to spark between the close friends. They just had one such argument about that same topic yesterday — the day before Will's _Ascension._

But even so, if that was the sacrifice Will had to make, the Prince would gladly accept it. His proud Royal blood would never allow him to run away like a coward. And that was an admirable trait. 

It was true that Hannibal _adored_ the Prince for his great compassion. But perhaps... sometimes, just sometimes, he _abhorred_ his Prince for it...

Slowly blinking his eyes open, Will glanced around his room. His headache having finally waned off. 

Having such an eidetic memory was often a very useful attribute, but oftentimes, it disturbed Will's peace since the ability enabled him to recall every scene of the crime and corruption, as well as the blood that stained the hands of many.

Absentmindedly, Will glanced down at his hands, still not fully all there in the present. His body may physically be present, but his mind was elsewhere.

Faded visages of crimson lines laced Will's fingers. These images refused to completely disappear, as though unable to be completely washed from the windows of his very soul.

These strange visuals would also sometimes spike through Will's _dreams..._

They say that dreams are memories from another life...

_Thump... Thump..._

_Lines_ of crimson ran down the neck of a long-haired and pale girl he could never see the face of. It was always blurred. No matter how hard he tried to see her. To know her. Useless. It was as though a barrier prevented him from crossing over there. But then his stomach suddenly turned. His head began to throb. And in one uncomfortable heave, Will vomited out an _ear._

_The glass_ shattered suddenly before Will's mind could catch up to what's happening around him. The _clang_ ruptured his ears, and broken shards dug into his palms. He tugged his hands over his screeching ears. Then he painfully forced his eyes to peak open. What greeted him was the spliced smile of a dark-haired woman. Her face was also blurred. She coughed up the revolting crimson liquid. The word _evidence_ would echo and echo and echo, driving Will _mad._

_Run._ Will ran and ran, somehow finding himself trapped in unknown darkness. It was as though Will were running through a maze. The scent of iron grew stronger the closer you are to the walls. The clamoring barks nipped at Will's heels as he blindly ran along the walls painted with dried _crimson._

_Fruitlessly,_ Will begged the screams to stop. His wrists hurt too much. The strobing lights hurt too much. The force of powder and needles injected into him against his will hurt too much... _wake up... Wake Up!_

The Prince shot up in his bed. 

Sweat droplets dripped down the sides of his cheeks. 

The sheets of fabric looked as though they had been haphazardly tossed off of his body. They tangled around his legs, and draped over the side, sprawled all over the floor.

Will didn't even notice that he had fallen asleep again. _When had he fallen asleep?_

He slowly breathed in and out, in and out. Calming practices came to mind as he slowed the rapid thumping of his heart. Gradually stabilizing his ragged breathing. But his heart still throbbed against his chest. It still hurt to breathe.

Will instinctively sought out comfort, but...

His hand felt empty.

He looked around in alarm. And realized that, indeed, Hannibal was not here. 

His friend would usually be sitting on the velvet sofa by Will's desk. Often found reading a book while Will did the paperwork or napped. Occasionally, Will did glance up at his friend wondering what he was reading.

But... he's not here...

_Where is he?_

Will remembered that Hannibal had immediately taken him to his room after the banquet so that he could rest. He was glad the man didn't leave right away after bringing him there, seeming to always know when Will wanted him near.

It was empty... _Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty... Empty..._

One would think that such dependency on another human being was a weakness, a heavy flaw. Will didn't care. _Why should he care for the words of those who berate his friend?_

Closing his eyes, Will envisioned the imaginary after-image of the blonde man still calmly sitting there. His soft hair naturally flowed to the side of his face as he tilted his head. Pretty amber eyes staring directly at Will's face, wondering if Will was deep asleep.

_Swish. Swish. Swish._ A pendulum rocked back and forth...

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


Hannibal stared at the bed for a while longer. 

After several lingering minutes, the blonde man's after-image closed his book. His feet moved silently, almost too silent. 

Then he quietly stepped out of the room, leaving the sleeping figure undisturbed.

I blinked open my eyes.

The after images of both Hannibal and myself faded from my room.

Slowly, I shifted out of the bed and the entangled bed sheets. I hopped onto my feet. Putting on sandals that wouldn't make conspicuous sounds as I walked. I then snuck through the door of my room as quiet as a lamb. And just as quietly, I shut the door to my room behind me.

I followed after the faint outline of after-image Hannibal's steps. 

Sneaking past an Imperial guard, I safely sniffed the air. I could still smell the scent of his expensive aftershave. One that certainly didn't have a ship on the bottle. Though I may not have that great of a sense of smell as Hannibal did, I could at least tell that much.

_Step. Step. Step._ I tipped-toed past two more knights assigned to patrol the Palace.

But it was increasingly becoming odd...

There seemed to be fewer guards than usual.

Turning a corner, I suddenly halted my steps. I had stopped myself just before accidentally crossing the junction between the North and East wings of the Palace.

_Thump. Thump._

_Why did he head towards this wing of the Palace?_

The Northern wing belonged to his majesty, the Emperor. I've never once brought Hannibal to this side of the Palace. I don't avoid the other two wings as I greatly do this one... _So what are you doing here?_

_Thump. Thump. Thump._ My heart drummed louder.

I forcibly gulped the rising anxiety back down my throat. Then quietly stepped and stepped. The floorboards creaked and creaked.

It felt a lot colder in this wing of the Palace.

I didn't feel that there were any nearby guards around.

Bells began to ring inside my ears. I ignored them.

"Hannibal?" I whispered barely above a hush.

I lost his trace. The after-images seemed to have stopped at a dead-end. That has never happened before.

I took another step forward. 

My body suddenly shivered.

Eyes widened. 

I snapped around!

The empty wind blew into my face.

_Dark._

_Cold._

_And... alone._

No one was there...

_Thump. Thump._

I felt someone here. 

_I could have sworn I did..._

My ears pricked. My eyes sharpened. And yet, I still could not detect another person. Reluctantly turning my back again, I continued my search. 

I walked past several eerie statues lining the walls of his Emperor's wing. And they seemed even creepier at night. With barely dimmed candles to light my way through the maze-like structure. 

As I walked past another door, I smelled something familiar.

_Hannibal?_ I thought.

I turned to look at the door. Sure enough, the smell was coming from inside that room.

My arms shivered from the cold. The anticipation warmed my body temperature right back up.

I pushed the door open.

"Han—" 

The hairs on the back of my head spiked. 

I froze. 

I stared. 

_Silence..._

Then a meek voice barely flowed out of paled lips.

"—nibal..."

Amber like golden irises greeted me. 

Thundering against a dark background as heavy rain _tapped, tapped, tapped,_ through the large window at the back of the room. And with a smooth _swish_ of a silver blade and dark obsidian hilt, crimson lines splattered onto my face, staining the marbled floors and walls.

The silk sheets were haphazardly sprawled all over the floor. Tangled with the crimson liquid spilling from the motionless figure that thudded onto the cold, hard floor.

I realized that the familiar smell was that metallic liquid...

He silently stared at me.

He's never looked at me like that before...

He's never looked like that at all before...

"You were supposed to be asleep."

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚫●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think I've discovered that I really enjoy writing cute moments between young Will and young Hannibal. (And... oh my dear... I really did just spent the entire day from 2:00pm to 5:00am writing this chapter instead of working on my project due this Sunday... Oof... Oh, well. I had fun. And I needed a distraction XD)
> 
> Btw, did you catch the easter eggs? There were four weird paragraphs in this chapter that refer to something else 'out of this world'!!! I think one of them is very obvious. (Hint: they're right next to each other) Teeheh.
> 
>  **My favorite line in this chapter.**  
>  'And they say that dreams are memories from another life...'
> 
> *(From the Urban dictionary & Britannica) **Platonic Love:** a love in which sexual intercourse is neither practiced nor desired. It was also used as a euphemism in the 19th century for homosexual love. Its other definition also describes it as a romantically profound bond between a couple that doesn't involve lust or carnality, but rather pure love. (So like a love that transcends the flesh, for it is the very soul and being of that person that is desired.)
> 
> So with the above definition in mind, I tagged the story as Platonic Love because I don't intend to have explicit scenes but still include a romantically charged relationship. I would describe it like the canon-typical on-screen scenes between Hannibal and Will in the TV show. Hoped that cleared up some confusion. 😁
> 
> Don't be afraid to ask, I always love reading your comments and questions. 💕
> 
> Thanks for stopping by to read! 💗  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	3. Chapter 3

****** 3 ******

"Mark my words..." The old man rasped, the phlegm sputtering from the bowels of his aged throat. "Even till my last dying breath. And after!" He spat. "Usurper!  _ You _ will never be Emperor!"

Hannibal tilted his head at the gasping man.  _ So pitiful. So weak. Useless. Trash. And idiotic. _

He hummed over the old man in thought. For even a  _ demon _ so drenched in the blood of his enemies was still able to feel some semblance of pity for the old man. Perhaps, it was because of the passing resemblance to his Prince. Or perhaps, old fools don't even deserve his animosity. 

Fools were beneath him, barely even deserving of his notice. 

_ But this was an exception. _

The red liquid flowed so easily. He was used to seeing its color sprayed around. On the battlefield, the rules of nature were kill or be killed. On the battlefield, it was your head or your enemy's head. Nothing else mattered on the battlefield, except  _ surviving. _

Hannibal arced his blade effortlessly. Golden pieces of accessories and gems fell with a dull thud. Light splashes of crimson flowed from his mangled arms.

"Be proud, your former-highness. Are you not pleased with the skills I've forged through the fire of your enemy's blood?" Hannibal smiled. Teeth sharp, cruel, and evil. 

He then grabbed the Royal's bloodied robe that was once a pristine gold and purple. Adorned with the Palace's finest jewels and silk.

It was colored a crimson deeper than rubies. Crusted and broken jewels.

"Is that not why you constantly sent me off into battle? Or perhaps, you hoped that I would have died?"

The Emperor's eyes widened. 

Hannibal could taste his fear. Smelled the disease and heartache.

Then once the Emperor was at the very height of despair, Hannibal thrust the blade directly through his heart, for he no longer needed it.

"Perhaps, you should have reigned your temper in better."

Blood splattered out like a waterfall.

It was so easy, as though the Emperor's body was a simple slab of meat. And that was exactly what Hannibal thought most people around him. Simple, mindless bodies of  _ meat. _ Greedy humans that devoured and devoured with no visible end to their desires. Like pigs to be slaughtered, 

Disdain twisted Hannibal's usually expressionless face.

His Will saw the good in people. Far too much of it for Hannibal's liking.

Will was benevolent. 

He was cruel. 

He was stern. 

He was powerful.

But most of all, he was compassionate.

So compassionate in fact, that it would become a fatal weakness. And Hannibal couldn't allow for that.

All of Will's strength. 

All of his sadness. 

All of his happiness.

His pain, joy, sorrow, and tears...

All of it...

_ All of Will... _

Every single part of  _ my Prince _ belonged to _ ME! _

He would never let any lowly creature abuse his beloved Prince's bleeding heart. He swiftly tugged the blade out of the former ruler's unbreathing body.  _ Especially you... _

He would slaughter any who even dared walk the same pace as Will. He would slaughter anyone who even dared kiss the same palm that held Hannibal's. Anyone who slandered him. Anyone who harmed him. Anyone who even so much looked at Will with the same eyes as Hannibal, himself, does.  _ Longing. Desire. Love. _ Everything offered to his Will would only come from Hannibal himself.

_ He will make sure of it. _

As Hannibal stood in the revelry and afterglow of the crimson-stained room, a familiar sweet scent suddenly curled through his nostrils. Like caramelized honey, and sandalwood.

_ Oh... _

"You were supposed to be asleep."

Usually, the color of crimson didn't look so off on his friend. Will was already used to it.

Sometimes Hannibal would return to the Palace smelling of iron and metal. Sometimes he would return with piercing eyes that reflected death. But it never bothered Will before. It never scared Will before. He knew that Hannibal would never intentionally harm him. So Will was never one to run from his  _ friend.  _ In the first place, Will was never one to run just because someone told him to.

But right now... right now, to Will... the colors twisted... Red and Gold contorted into a perverse glow that no longer seemed so pretty. 

_ Crackle!  _

_ Rumble. Rumble. _

The man's face was shadowed against the intense flash of light behind him, striking from the dark and heavy clouds spanning across the large paned window.

_ He didn't know this man... _

The golden-eyed man remained motionless. Staring. Observing. 

Will's every move was being watched, anticipated, and understood.

"If not the Emperor, then I will be the night. The far-reaching shadows that the  _ sun _ casts. The comforting darkness that will always follow the light." Golden eyes pierced through the blood and darkness. And Will subconsciously shivered in the presence of them.

_ Who are you... _

Will was no longer capable of looking the other man in the eyes anymore...

Blue eyes gazed down. 

Still as a statue. Frozen as the Lake of Cocytus. The motionless figure remained on the floor. Lifeless eyes half-lidded and paled lips slightly gaped open. The last words he breathed had already escaped a while ago. Before Will had even entered the room.

The blood thudded against Will's ears. Louder and louder and louder. Crimson lines trickled down the walls of the room. The smell was overpowering. It was awful. Foul. Nausea-inducing.

"Will?"

The familiar voice belonging to his sweet friend called him back, mind returning to his physical surroundings.

"Ha... Hannibal," Will shakingly replied, almost instinctively. His mind still raced. And his eyes still refused to look at him anymore, lest the nightmare proves to be real...

_ He wanted to wake up... _ wake up from this nightmare.

The man's golden eyes stared at him for a while. He would always look at him. Always see him. Always watch him. 

But in turn, Will could also see. Will saw him. Knew him. And now, a veil seemed to have unraveled itself. He truly saw what lurked down in the abyss that was hidden deep within those once amber eyes. Or perhaps, it had always been there. It just never reared its fangs at the Prince.

The blonde sighed. He opened his arms, attempting to appear less threatening. Less dangerous.

"You took my hand when no one else would. Even Lady Murasaki was, at times, wary of me. Perhaps for justifiable reasons."

_ Step. Step. _

Will remained where he was despite Hannibal coming closer. As motionless as the fallen and cold body of his late father.

"You've even seen the glow in my eyes. A sick and disgusting color that makes all want to run from me. But not you. You didn't run away. No. Instead, you locked your hands around my own. Entwined your fingers with mine that even when I wanted to, I could no longer let you go. You've never let go. Always letting me know that you were there. Always pulling me along with you. You led me around a world so colorful and bright. I never knew such a world existed until you showed me."

A hand outstretched itself.

"Will, nothing has changed. Take my hand again. Just like how you've always done so before.  _ Nothing _ has changed."

The Prince didn't move an inch. The hand that used to offer him comfort now seemed to belong to a devil. All those times, all those memories. Every image of him taking that same hand before shattered into a million pieces. He could never be able to pick up all those pieces back up again. So, he knew, he knew that if he took that hand again, it would be as though making a deal with Satan himself. A being that would rather end Will's life than allow the Prince to live without him.

"Take my hand." The voice insisted. Eyes flashed. Golden. Stern. Promising that  _ nothing _ has changed. 

Will so desperately wanted to take that hand like the hundreds of times he's done so before... but...  _ but... _

He found his voice. "H-Hannibal... how— how could you..." Heavy accusation laced his tone.

Another flash of lightning bolted outside the window, flashing the blood on the blonde man's face, a brighter crimson that was more black than what Will had ever seen.

"What?" He pressed Will. "How could I, what?" Warm breath inched closer to his Prince. "Do what's best for you?" A predator's eyes watched Will's every movement.

He flinched. 

Finally, he looked up, gazing into pure golden eyes. And finally, he understood that this was no dream. It was a nightmare. But it was real...

The man that cruelly smiled before him wasn't Will's friend... he was a demon... a  _ murderous demon! _

Decided and finally spurred into action, Will's muscles sprang. He lunged for the sword, grabbing the dark hilt.

"My father!" Will cried in anguish. "You murdered him!" He pulled at the sword, only to be immediately halted by Hannibal's strength.

They both held on tight to the sword, pushing the other's feet back and forth. The lavish rug beneath them curled and crushed from their fight. It was unsalvageable now due to the large pool of blood that painted all over it.

"Was he really your father?"

"What?!" Will shouted in disbelief.

"A useless Emperor like that as your father? Spare me!" Hannibal's sudden strength was able to knock Will away.

The Prince fell backward. He tried to roll back up onto his feet, but in that instant, his former friend held the sharp blade at his throat. Drawing a shallow line of red. Marking Will's skin.

"1001 to 1000." The blonde said coldly. "My win."

Will glared at the man who used to be his friend. The man he trusted. Depended on... The one person he  _ loved...  _ Like a brother. Like family. And... perhaps even more than that...

Will's chest suffocatingly weighed heavier than the golden vaults of the treasury.

_ Betrayal.  _

_ Traitor. _

Will's heart and mind twisted in this aching feeling this man has wrought onto him. 

But, still... the memories refuse to release him...

"Please..." The only one who would ever hear Will beg was most likely Hannibal. 

And the Prince, despite being threatened at sword point, still tried to reach out to his childhood friend. Firmly looking into those two golden orbs of cold calculation.

"This... this high crime won't go unpunished... so take my life if you want to, but leave right after... go far away from here... Escape like the shadows when morning comes. Let no one find you..."

Hannibal seemed to contemplate his words but still didn't move an inch. He seemed unaffected. Indifferent.

Will did not know when the guards may return. Or perhaps a member of the court could randomly walk past this room.

"Hannibal,  _ please..." _ Will tried again. Tears threatened to suffocate his eyes.

After a moment longer, the man suddenly began to laugh. As though he were privy to a joke that Will was clueless of.

The Prince looked at him incredulously. "This isn't funny, Hannibal. Leave!"

"Of course. My apologies, my dearly, small, lovable, and naive Prince." The blonde swiftly retracted his sword and utterly confused Will. "I already knew, but to actually see it in practice. My fair Prince, who would choose to forgo all of his rules, regulations, and righteousness, just for me."

Will growled. Clearly understanding that Hannibal was stalling.  _ But stalling for what? _

"Know this, that during these trying times, often righteousness and justice are not enough."

Silence sparked between them.

Hannibal looked into Will's eyes.

Will looked into Hannibal's eyes.

"Fine." The Prince stood. "If you won't leave, then I will." Dark hate filled his lungs.

But even so, his bond and feelings for his friend would never be so easy to sever. Hannibal's mere presence, alone, always seemed to drown every other feeling out of Will. Chasing them away as though insignificant and trivial. Replacing them with him. But this time, his presence only left Will with a gaping hole in his lonely heart.

"I may never be truly able to hate you, Hannibal. Despite the gravity of your crime. For taking my own  _ father _ away from me!" He spat. "But I will hate this Palace, this life, and the life I had spent with you."

Will turned away from the chiseled man's enchanting face. Lest he wavers yet again. 

Hannibal's feet quickly shuffled, his tall form loomed over Will's shoulder like a prowling lion. "You would hate having lived with me, but not directly hate me?"

The Prince's eyes watered, but he refused to let his former friend see him in such a weakened state. "Sometimes... sometimes, being so close makes one blind and foolish."

It oddly grew quiet.

Will went on. "Between you and me, there can be no decisive victory from this..." He inhaled a deep breath, preparing himself. "I'm not going to look for you. I'm not going to find you. I don't want to know what you do. This is goodbye, Hannibal." Will stalked off or at least tried to. But something caught his wrist, pulling him back into the darkness and coppery smell of the suffocating room he had tried to leave behind him.

"I could say the same to you,  _ my dearest Will." _

Those words from his former friend's throat sounded animalistic, almost feral. Hannibal's palm wrapped over Will's eyes. His other hand snaked around his waist. "Have you been so blinded by the Emperor, and the rest of the livestock running freely and unchecked in the Palace?"

"No! The one who blinded me was you!"

"I've only simply opened your eyes to the truth."

The Prince squirmed in his caging hold. But Hannibal's arms didn't budge an inch.

"Will." He tutted as though placating a child. He had often done something similar when Will had still been but a child.

Even as Will scratched at his arms, Hannibal dragged and dragged him further and further back into the room.

Will hated this room. He already had not so fond memories of this place. That was one of the main reasons he avoided the Northern wing of the Palace. Like a curse, it was linked to death. And now, it had a death counter of two.

The Prince felt nauseous.

He tried to appeal to Hannibal, widening his eyes up at his friend. But what he had seen there shocked him. For the first time in his life, Hannibal's golden eyes truly scared Will. Not because of their color, but for the silent and dark promises that leaked out of them.

Will frantically struggled. The darkness felt so suffocating. 

As he turned side-to-side, the corner of his eyes caught sight of a small stand holding up a fading candle.

Instincts took over his body.

Will launched his head backward, crashing right into Hannibal's chin, stunning the man for a split second. And that was all he needed. He twisted his body and grabbed the candle. The heat hurt, but Will couldn't feel it. His body was just too pump-full of adrenaline.

Hannibal's arms lunged at Will again. This time, he wouldn't make such an error again. He would immediately bind Will's hands so that he would never be able to grab a candle again. He would bind his legs so that he would never be able to run again. And perhaps, he would blindfold his Prince so that he would not be able to see where to escape to ever again.

The Prince narrowly dodged and ducked to the side. The candle still burned in hand. He swatted the wax-dripping object right into Hannibal's eyes.

Will winced as his ex-friend closed his eyes and recoiled from the impact. His fingers quickly wiping away at the wax that has blinded him.

Dark-brown hair quickly turned and sprinted out of the room with a  _ clatter. _

Will ran and ran through the hallways as though his life depended on it, which was fairly true. He doesn't know what exactly Hannibal would do to him if he ever caught him again, but he just knew that he would rather not linger around to discover.

As he ran, a horde of footsteps  _ thudded  _ and  _ thudded _ after him.

At first, Will thought they may be the Royal guard. But after a few seconds of listening and watching. They were definitely not the usual knights stationed to guard his home.

He couldn't see them clearly, but their dark forms stayed hidden in the shadows. They matched Will step for step. They matched him turn for turn.

_ What the hell! _

He tried to lose them so many times, but they just kept finding him again and again.

Will had been running for a while now, but not a single Imperial knight seemed to be around. They were gone. And this revelation had firmly secured Will's theory that this had been planned right from the start. Somehow, someway, Hannibal was able to leave the Palace under-guarded. If so,  _ then where did all of his personal knights go? _

_ Shit. Shit. Shit. _

Hannibal was the one in charge of his personal guard of knights.

_ Jack! _

Will picked up the speed.

His Master was always usually drinking away by Will's favorite cherry tree in the courtyard. And no one but Will knew that that's where he went to take a break from his guarding duties. 

His legs burned as he sprinted for the junction between the Northern and Eastern wings of the Palace. But when Will turned another corner, he suddenly skidded into a halt. Down the winding hallway and up ahead were several shrouded figures. They looked as though they were cloaked in shadows. The only splash of color was from their eyes, which chilled Will's very bones.

_ Thud. Thud. Thud. _

The group that chased him from behind, were almost here.

With no other option, Will bit his lip and jumped.

The glass shattered as he fell through to the other side. He quickly heaved himself off of the dirt and grass. 

He fled into the trees. 

And he kept on running. 

A primal part of his brain forced his feet onward.

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


Hannibal slowly stepped out of the room. His eyes seemed fine, but they looked different. Instead of white, his scleras were pitch-black, making the glow of his supernatural irises far more deadly.

"What did I say?" Hannibal glanced at a shadow. There seemed to be no one there, until a form suddenly slipped away from the walls, as though it were prying itself out of the shadows. 

Illuminated by the light, a figure in dark armor kneeled onto one knee. It dipped his head low to the ground. Only his gray eyes were barely visible through the black mask that veiled his identity. "Sir. You ordered us to make sure no harm was to befell his highness, Young Prince William."

"Yes," the blonde hummed. "Then tell me, general, how was he able to find his way here?" The black of his scleras seemed to shift, almost encompassing the entirety of his eyeballs.

"Sir." The figure dipped his head even lower. "His highness, Young Prince William, walked here—"

The sudden rise and slash of a sword echoed through the hallway. A fine line of blood spurted onto the faces of the other observing and masked individuals who had slipped away from the shadows.

"Matthew."

Another individual donned in dark armor and face covered in black fabric stepped forward. "Yes sir." It kneeled and bowed its head. 

"You are the new General of the Corps now. Your first mission, which I expect you to fulfill unfailingly, is to bring the Prince back to me. Unharmed. Mostly unharmed is acceptable, so long as all of his limbs and organs are intact and he is breathing."

"Yes sir."

"Go."

The shadowed individuals immediately dispersed. Hungry to fulfill their powerful Master's commands.

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


Shadows surrounded him, ruthlessly chasing him down as though he were some sort of sport. And Will absolutely refused to become someone's trophy.

But with his stamina depleted, the Prince found himself with his back trapped between the dark army and the edges of a long winding cliff. The rocky abyss created a fine line between him and the raging seas.

He had Will chased down like a runaway dog, and yet he expected him to simply bend over and take his hand again.

The raging waves below bellowed as loud as his howling and broken heart.

He shifted closer over the edge.

"I won't go back with you."

The last things Will saw before completely blacking out were two unnaturally gold orbs...

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


The man's eyes widened the moment those precious diamond-blue eyes dipped forward.

Golden hair like a lion's proud mane snapped forward like lightning, but his feet were too slow. His hands had been too slow. He was only able to catch a few strands of his Prince's familiarly smooth hair. (He knew its texture like the back of his own hand.) 

The chocolate hairs slipped through his fingers like a fragile spider's web. And the Prince plunged all the way down in the watery abyss...

His slim body disappeared as though it were completely devoured by the dark roaring waves.

Feet shuffled closer over the edge of the cliff.

Blonde hair stared down the dark edges for several silent seconds. Even the dark army behind him seemed to grow unnaturally disturbed. Armor shifting, and eyes seemed to grow more fearful of the young man standing on the very same cliff the beloved Prince had just fallen from.

The sound of panicked, angry, and broken yells like cries echoed through the man's ears.

He looked down the waves of the abyss with hope renewed. But...

_ Oh, that was just his own voice... _

The man gripped his fist hard enough that the tang of iron stung his nostrils.

Seconds turned to minutes...

Minutes turned to hours...

And yet,  _ his _ beloved Prince was not here next to him...

A long, aching howl roared over the cliffs, echoing throughout the land of the Kingdom of Rystallis.

The beastly sound ranged throughout the night. It terrified, but also confused the people. Pairs and lovers subconsciously hugged their partners close. They held each other closer. They reassuringly kissed each other through the darkest night.

No one knew why, but many couldn't help but feel sorry for this unknown beast who howled at the stars and throughout the night. For it sounded so sad... So hollow... So full of despair...

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


.

.

.

_ Crunch. _

"W......"

"......?"

The rustling of brittle leaves.

_...Who? _

He slowly opened his eyes. 

His head throbbed. 

His heart ached. 

He simply longed to remain in his memories, for in them he could still be that ignorant and carefree child. He could still be that excited child running through the Palace hallways. He could still be holding the hand of his  _ friend... _

The sides of his eyes stung. Liquid dripped down.

"Prince William." Relieved eyes looked down at Will. 

Soft hands cradled his head.

He couldn't see the person's face clearly, but he could feel her comfort. Her happiness.

"I'm so glad that you're safe. Alive." Relief-filled droplets fell from her brown maple bark eyes, spilling onto his cheeks.

But Will honestly wished that he wasn't... he was apologetic for feeling that way... but he couldn't help it...

His heart never stopped howling. 

He felt betrayed. He felt so sad... So hollow... So full of despair...

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚫●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit of jumping around in the timeline to make it interesting and mysterious, but we got there eventually. 😙
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Surprise Extra for Mewtho9, and just for fun.)
> 
> _**Extra:** _
> 
> _Hannibal: How'd you get here?_
> 
> _Will: By walking._
> 
> _Hannibal: (Contemplates removing Will's legs.)_
> 
> _Will: (Walks up to Hannibal) Don't even think about what I think you are thinking of._
> 
> _Hannibal: (Smirks) What is it that I am thinking, my dear?_
> 
> _Will was unamused..._
> 
> I love a bit of dark humor 😄

****** 4 ******

The Crystal Palace was very quiet. It was as though time had stopped. A dead stillness. A silence in mourning.

All that a Prince had believed in, those that he had loved, gone under one moonlit night. Blackened under the sky was a bleeding heart that fled and fled. Shadows all around until a young man could no longer take it...

And so this Prince fell into the night. He fell down a winding cliff. And he was devoured by a ravenous ocean. So now, all that was left was darkness, darkness, darkness... 

Even when the sun slowly broke through the dark sky, the palace remained an eerie stillness. Even when the shadows on the walls slinked back into obscurity, they were always there, loyal and guarding. But they hid from the view of the light, as they've always done so.

But Hannibal was the only one who didn't slink back into the shadows. He had stayed at the cliff's edge all throughout the night. His throat was raw from use. His nails murked from scratching at the ground. And his eyes, his eyes were ablaze.

The other shadows that had slinked from the view of the sun awaited their new orders. Silent. Out of view. But there. Always there.

The golden-eyed man finally got up. His eyes were hollow and merciless. His aura was so full of bloodlust and rage. Anything and everything will get caught up within his dark fire and burn.

The shadows twitched in anticipation. But the man never said a word as he slowly stepped back into the Palace.

_Creak. Creak._

Dark wood and leather shoes echoed throughout the eerily quiet stronghold. Not many people would awake so early, so soon.

Dried, bloodied sword in hand, the bitter and mournful man decided to take a detour. Entering into the Eastern Wing of the Palace, the man stopped in front of the familiar room. A room that was his place of refuge. A warm place that held his hand. A hand that defrosted his unfeeling heart.

He opened the door. 

The room was empty of life.

He hated how empty it was. How cold it was.

His eyes instantly trained onto the sheathed sword held up onto the wall above the silk sheets and bed. He pried the sword right off its place with a tight grip. Its beautifully crafted sheath didn't glow. It was bleak and sealed shut. As cold as death. And as lifeless as old blood. 

In divine retribution, Hannibal decided that he would sacrifice and offer the blood of this very, hateful Palace to his beloved, his god, who may be watching after him in the afterlife. Using the very same sword that was blessed to the true ruler of this land, all lands. The sword may be dull in his hands because he was not the Prince, but that would not be a problem. No matter how dull, a blunt sword can still crack a fragile human's skull. 

And he would use that very sword to destroy the very kingdom that should have belonged to his Prince. A kingdom without his Prince should not exist. All that was left for such a wretched existence was destruction... And he shall be the one to rectify that very issue. He is destruction. He is the harbinger.

Hannibal strode back out of his Prince's room.

"Where is that hateful child?!" A high-pitched voice suddenly screeched through the high walls of the Palace. "My dear son should have been the one to _Ascend."_ A woman in a silk red dress and purple fabric stalked through the grand hallways of the Easter wing, a place she was strictly forbidden from entering by the Emperor himself. "Oh, that spiteful child! How dare he take my dear Randall's birthright! First, he takes away his father, then his sword."

"My lady, please wait!" A frantic male attendant pleaded to his mistress. "This is his Highness, young Prince William's wing. Even you cannot so easily enter without his expressed permission like this!"

"How dare you!" The hateful woman spat. Her hand lashed out at the poor servant's cheek, nails digging the skin of his cheek. "I am his majesty, the Emperor's concubine, and soon-to-be Empress! You cannot talk to me like that! Bring me a sword!" She shouted. The other servants quivered.

Hannibal chose this opportunity to step out of the corner of the opposing hallway. He now stood directly in front of Royal concubine, Kade Prurnell. 

"My lady is this the sword you seek." He dipped his head in respect.

The lady immediately zeroed in on the sword in Hannibal's hand, instantly recognizing it. "You!" Her eyes widened in shock, then into a sly smile. "How did you get this sword?" She flirtatiously flicked her finger at the young twenty-four-year-old man and batted her eyelashes. "You've done great work." She said in awe while giving a glance of hate towards the earlier male servant who had keeled over the floor in pain. 

"What is your name?" She stepped closer. Far too close into his personal space.

Hannibal smiled, skillfully hiding a feral growl in the back of his throat. "My name is of no importance to you, madam." He held his other hand (not the one holding the sword) out. And the aristocrat blushed as he took her hand into his and kissed the top of it with his expert lips.

"Why you are quite the gentleman," She swooned. "How is it that you've alluded my attention for this long?" She giggled, a horrendous sound to Hannibal's ears. "I would have made you _mine_ sooner. Well, no matter, if you'd like, you can join me at the Southern wing of the Palace. It would suit such a handsome young man like yourself." The Royal concubine said while lightly tracing her fingers under Hannibal's chiseled chin. "Now darling, hand me the sword."

"Of course, my lady. I shall _offer you_ with this sword."

She giggled once again. Not quite understanding the underlying meaning of those words. 

Hannibal's gentlemanly smile spoke of how gullibly ignorant the woman before him was to him. He moved the sword forward, but a second later, the Royal Concubine's lips colored a deep and pretty crimson that suited her far too lavish red dress better.

Her eyes blew wide with shock. Her fear swept right into Hannibal's nostrils. It was fragrant rust, but also florally sweet to Hannibal. It was almost enough to satiate his hunger and anger. But no... He wanted _more._ She had offended him far too much to end this so easily, so light of a punishment.

Hannibal's teeth, more like fangs, showed through his lips as he twisted the sheathed sword further into her gut, pushing parts of her organs out. A gush of blood uncontrollably spilled down the foul-mouthed woman's lips. And the servants could only stand on the sides and watch on with insurmountable terror. Frozen as pale sheets in fear as they watched the devil-like man easily strike down the Emperor's concubine.

Hannibal gave her one last charismatic smile. Before, it was a dreamy expression that gave one a warm and fuzzy feeling, but now, all it looked like to Prunell and her servants was a horrific and hideously evil beast. 

He leaned close to her trembling ears and whispered, "How does it feel to be thrust into by the sword in my hand. The very same one you've coveted for yourself for so long."

The Royal Concubine hacked up more blood, spilling it over Hannibal's cheek.

He licked it right from his lips, savoring its metallic taste. The golds of his eyes seemed to glow brighter. Pupils slit like the eyes of a cobra.

"N-no... no..." Her words were slightly muffled from the strain of blood and pain. "For... Randall, my dear..." _Cough!_ "Dearest eldest..." She shook. Her hands weakly fell on top of the sword, meekly trying to pry it out of herself. But as she did, the more the blood poured out.

"You shouldn't have done that, but if you insist." Hannibal brutally pulled out the sheathed sword in one _swish._

And like a waterfall, the red liquid poured out of the gaping wound. Her skin quickly paled. 

"You... are a monster..." 

After several minutes of gasping, she fell forward with a sloppy thud. Painfully choking on her own blood as the last of life left the visage of her eyes.

He turned to the other servants. He didn't even spare her another glance as he slowly stepped towards them.

_No survivors. No witnesses._

The sheathed and lifeless sword swiftly flashed through the air, too fast for the normal human eye to see. He struck it through such fragile skin, muscle, and bone with sheer strength alone. And the sword bathed in fresh blood as several other skulls were struck, bones broken, and abdomens left with holes. 

A few of the terrified into silence servants managed to regain their nerves and started to sprint away. Terror lit their eyes as they fled.

_No survivors._

Golden eyes loomed over the fleeing figures.

_No witnesses._

_Slash. Slash. Slash._

He stood in the silence of the aftermath. 

The blood stained the handsome features of the nobleman. Golden eyes glowed in revelry. It was a beautiful contrast to the strings of crimson that bathed all over his body. It suited him, as though he were made for bloodshed. The golden devil stepped, intending to continue his sorrowful and wrathful slaughter. 

But then a _humming_ sound graced his ears.

The blood-soaked man followed his eyes to the source. 

_It was the sword._

As he looked down at the sheathed blade, he noticed that the stains of blood slowly disappeared, as though they were being absorbed. And as the red liquid gradually vanished, the humming grew louder and louder.

A faint, but present pale light began to glow around the sheath.

"The sword," the golden-eyed man finally spoke in a low and quiet voice, still in disbelief of what he just witnessed. "The sword still glows..." Wonderment and awe quickly filled his tone. Gold slitted pupils focused on the iridescent blue glow of runes covering the entire sheath of the sword. 

Hannibal tried to pull the sword from its sheath, but it only went out one-fourths of the way. Something seemed to lock it from within. A power that even Hannibal could not force to obey him. But despite that, the golden-haired man was filled with glee. 

The once dull and lifeless sword looked more alive. The dull silver lit with a pale white light. The hummings continued like a beating heart. And the offered sacrifice of blood was the defibrillator.

Regaining his bearings, this new information spurred Hannibal into instant action. With a flick of his hand, a shadowed figure appeared before his master, kneeled in fervor, and donned in its dark armor — menacing as smoke.

"His heart is still beating... Find him!" he ordered his dark army. "Find him and bring him back to me. Go!" He waved his crusted hand smelling of rust.

The shadows dispersed. Eager to rectify their error and please their lord.

"And I... I shall offer more sacrifices onto my _god."_

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


"...ey..."

_Please..._

"......ll"

_Just leave me alone..._

"...."

.

.

.

_"Hey..."_

_'Annoying...'_

_"Will."_

_He snapped his eyes open. His chest throbbed as though his heart wanted to leap right out._

_Thud-Thump. Thud-Thump._

_It hurt. It felt as though he had been submerged underwater and cut off from oxygen for far too long._

_And when he opened his eyes, he was suddenly blasted with intense yellows, whites, and blues. The colors all meshed and blinded him. They were so pretty and bright, and yet so painful and daunting._

_The young sixteen-year-old slowly shifted his body off of what felt like fluffy grass beneath him. And blue eyes perked open, still blurred and strained from the myriad of colors and lights._

_Will heard bird chirpings. A pair of flying chirps following after each other._

_He listened closely._

_Splash. Dribble. Dribble._

_The trickle of what sounded like a stream._

_The skirting of woodland squirrel pairs and the paws of a sibling duo of fox kits running after each other's tails._

_As Will took in the sensations of nature, feeling its energy as though it wrapped around his entire body, he began to wonder, 'Where am I?'_

_He was left confused._

_He took a glance down at his hands. The awkward, smaller, littler hands were still growing into their proportions. He tipped his head back up and looked around, eyes still adjusting. Everything was... green, green, green, green and... gold?_

_'Where is this?'_

_Will blinked again. The shape was out of focus still. A blob of pretty gold and amber swirls._

_Then a voice echoed into his ears, soft, calming..._

_"How are you feeling, Will?"_

_He slowly realized that he recognized that voice, that comforting, precious voice..._

_"...Ha— Hannibal?" Will turned slowly. But for some reason, his puffy and flying feelings turned to anxiousness. He started to feel scared, sad and horrified._

_He clenched his eyelids closed. Then, blink, blink blink. His eyes focused. A golden-haired young man stood in front of him. The man's eyes were (still) the amber as he had always remembered them. His mop of sun-kissed hair was silky and soft. (Not crusted and smelling of iron.) Will instinctively wanted to touch it. But he also felt averse to the dark swirl of colors in those eyes._

_It was a dilemma._

_"Did you forget, my Prince Will," the man began to chuckle, pulling Will's mind from his increasing thoughts. "It is my Coming of Age Ceremony today."_

_Pieces clicked into place, one by one. Like the ringing of bells. The chimes in the breeze. Will was one of them. He fell back and fit into place — into an old puzzle._

_A smooth and almost seamless transition into a beautiful past._

_"Hannibal." Young Will said excitedly, but with a hint of embarrassment. His voice was lighter and childlike. "My dear friend has a busy day today, so I thought I should stay out of trouble and out of your way. If only for today." He smirked in mischief._

_The older young man thought upon his words for a moment, then extended a hand to Will._

_Will took it._

_He hauled the young Prince off the grassy forest floor, patting his pant legs of the leaves that clung to the Prince's silked dressings._

_"You are no trouble, my dear Will. If anything, you've actually caused me needless worrying for not being in my sight at all times of the day. I had wondered what trouble you may have gotten yourself into."_

_Young Will puffed in annoyance, then nodded with a flush of his cheeks._

_"But tell me, do you often have those thoughts?" Hannibal asked more seriously, staring directly into Will's diamond-blue eyes._

_The sixteen-year-old Prince slightly squirmed under his friend's stare, but he gradually relaxed. It was a comforting look. One that was accepting and understanding of him. It wasn't judging, nor was it filled with loathing. It was Hannibal's stare._

_"What thoughts?"_

_"Those self-deprecating thoughts."_

_"I wouldn't say they're that..."_

_Hannibal looked at him with a disbelieving quirked eyebrow._

_"Fine..." The young Prince sighed. "Well, sometimes..." he said finally, "My older half-brother Randall often calls me useless, weak, and a good-for-nothing thief. I suppose that wears and tears at your mental state throughout the years."_

_The corners of Hannibal's lips slightly quirked — a small movement that Will has noticed to mean that he was quite ticked off. "Don't think about them anymore. Just hold my hand. Look at me so that you won't have to look at them."_

_A small chuckle left the Prince's lips. "Yeah... those things don't matter to me anymore. They aren't enough to prevent me from having fun with you, Hannibal." A smile so bright, it was as though an angel, no, a god descended._

_Hannibal seemed to freeze under such honest, blue iridescent eyes nobler than anything he's ever seen. He wondered what kind of creature could be so untainted by the world that practically reeked of evil-intentioned people._

_"You know, you should be getting ready for your Coming of Age ceremony." Will intertwined his smaller fingers around the soon-to-be-recognized twenty-year-old's hand. He tugged him out of the canopy of the trees and back to the Palace. Hannibal was already used to being pulled around by his Prince._

_"I don't view it as a special occasion." He said._

_Young Will glanced back at Hannibal with a furrowed eyebrow, perplexed at why he could think that. "Huh, why?"_

_"A celebration is for when one feels happy and festive, correct?"_

_"Yeah..."_

_"Then, there is no celebration when there is no one to feel happy and festive for you."_

_Will widened his eyes and tilted his head at the young blonde man with an utterly baffled expression. "Why..." tears began to well in his eyes, "Why would you say something so sad like that?"_

_Hannibal ever so slightly flinched. Unexpected. Baffled. And Curious. His other hand moved to awkwardly pat the smaller Prince's shoulder, as he didn't know what else to do. But when it looked like the Prince's silent tears weren't going to stop any time soon, Hannibal thought about his choice of words, then gave a deep inhale._

_"I... I've always been told that no one was happy that I existed. An accursed child that got his own family killed. I was never sad about it though, granted, I never knew my biological family, since they were already gone before I could start retaining memories. But... but I suppose I do wonder about family..."_

_Will suddenly tightened his hold on Hannibal's hand. He then spun around, twisted his other hand, and grabbed Hannibal's other hand. They were palm-to-palm and face-to-face._

_"I'm your family! And you're my family! I'll celebrate with you. I'll be happy for you. So don't say those sad kinds of things again, okay?"_

_He stared at the young Prince for a short few seconds that felt like minutes._

_"Okay," he finally accepted._

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


"...ey..."

"......ll"

"...."

The annoying voice was still there...

Will sighed and turned his body away.

_Won't you just leave me alone... please... at least let me be at peace in my dreams..._

The small figure behind him frowned.

"He's been like this for the past five days. Angry. Unresponsive. No appetite. Constantly asleep. It's like he got his heartbroken or something." The young blue-eyed girl pointed to the curled-up young man in worry.

"Don't worry Abigail, he'll get better, we'll help him get better."

"I know, teacher, but I'm just worried. What if he doesn't?" She gazed solemnly through the little opening in the camouflaged hut. "When Alana first found him, he wasn't breathing. He was cold and blue. It was as though he were already dead. It frightened me."

Her teacher opened his arms.

She leaped and grabbed onto his shoulders for comfort.

"Perhaps, it was destiny." Her teacher mumbled something he unknowingly often did. "Don't worry my dear student. The gods have foretold, and they are always watching over us."

She followed his eyes. He was looking back towards the direction of the Palace.

"Why did they chase you out like that, teacher? You were the High Priest, a title gifted by the gods. Isn't such blasphemy a heavenly crime?"

"Alas, my dear student," the glazed brown eyes of the High Priest poked through the curled, but unruly blonde hairs that covered half his face. "I fear that a great change is inevitable."

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


The fiddling with the sword abruptly stopped. An ancient language inscribed on its sheath still continued to glow with a pale iridescent blue. The one who held the ancient and powerful blade hummed with grateful relief and utter happiness at the presence of the pale light.

_I will find you..._

A man sat upon a golden throne, but none in the Palace dared to question him anymore.

"Sir," a voice interrupted the man's musings. "We've searched along all the coastal beaches. The shore platforms. And all the connected lakes, bays, and rivers nearby." The dark armored man respectfully bowed his head.

"Matthew." Golden eyes from the golden seat stared down at his servant. Unamused. Unimpressed. An imposing figure on a golden throne that matched his golden hair. But it looked as though he were a beautiful devil in human's clothing, and only a few knew the truth. 

Utterly terrifying...

The dark armored man instinctively dipped his head even lower. His forehead touched the cold floor of the empty throne room.

The figure on the throne pointed the sheathed sword in his hands at the kneeled servant. "Do you recall what happened to your predecessor?"

The General barely held the involuntary twitch of fear back. Not daring to risk any movement the devil may view as an insult.

"Do you know the difference between _sleeping,_ and _not sleeping?"_ The devil on the throne went on.

Chills shivered up the young man's spine as the darkness of the heavy threat hung in the frigid wind.

"Yes, of course, sir," the General forced his voice to appear smooth. Both terror and thrill tingled his skin. "I shall extend the search farther, even into enemy lands. I vow on my honor to you, my Master, I will find his young Highness. And I will bring him home, back to you. Safe and sound in your hands alone."

The blonde devil hummed in thin approval.

The newly appointed Corps General was already on his last layer of ice. And a master, such as himself, will most certainly not tolerate a second failure.

Once the shadowed General left, it was about time to get ready. The blonde devil stood from the golden throne. The heavy echoes of each of his steps were hollow and dark.

_You can't escape from me forever, my dear._

  
  


~•●⚫●•~

  
  


Charisma held the people's eyes. For the handsome man was their Prince's most trusted Royal advisor and friend. 

The name of Hannibal and his face were well known to the people. He has done Rystallis wonders: set the foundation for many schools to be built and accessible to the regular citizen, lowered the burden of taxes on the lower classes while raising those of the wealthy. Additionally, he was known for his charity and was seen as Prince Will's most trusted Royal Advisor. So the people naturally trusted the man.

Thus, when Hannibal sent out messengers throughout the kingdom, calling for the people to gather before the castle grounds, they dropped their things and hurried their steps. 

Many wondered if it was perhaps another celebration.

But others noticed that it was rather odd. 

The nobles, the entire aristocracy, the palace itself, just everything seemed a little tense to the people who started to gather and gather.

Excited chatter and whispered wonderings waved throughout the gathered crowd of Rystallis's people.

But the moment a hair of gold flew into view, the crowd of whispers quickly grew quiet. Anticipation welled up as the people awaited whatever it was that they were called to the Palace for.

"My thanks to the people of our beloved Kingdom for gathering on such a short moment's notice, but I felt that the people deserved to hear it. It is with great regret in my heart that I inform you, Emperor Williric has passed!"

Gasps resound throughout the crowded gathering. Worried cries, confusion, and fear swept the dazed crowd.

Hannibal adopted a sorrowful face. Then he raised a hand, asking for silence.

The people instantly complied.

"He was assassinated in his own home. The Royal Concubine was also found next to his body, lifeless. We will find who is responsible and deliver a punishment worthy of such a high crime." A practiced tear dripped down the Royal Advisor's pale amber eyes. "And since five nights ago, our beloved _Ascended_ Prince has also gone missing. The same culprit of his disappearance is also the murderer of our Great Emperor. What foul of a person to had desecrated the royal blood of the King of kings!?"

The crowd of people roared in further fear and confusion. 

"The Emperor is dead?!"

"Someone murdered the Emperor and his Royal Concubine?"

"Prince William is also missing?!"

"What are we going to do?"

"Oh, please be safe _Ascended_ Prince..."

"What such tragedy to befell the Royal Palace?"

The people cried to one another.

Hannibal patiently waited a sufficient time to allow for the dreadful news to take its course. Then he raised his hand again for silence. "Death for a death," he announced with a tight fist. "I promise you, justice will bear down on the evil killer and invader!" 

The people looked back up to him and quickly roared in agreement. 

They wanted blood. 

They wanted to make sure that their Prince was saved from such a horrible criminal. 

Their initial fear and confusion were swiftly erased by the powerful image and noble standing the golden-haired man demonstrated before them. 

They believed in him. 

They trusted him. 

He will do right. 

He will find their Prince.

They would never suspect that the person they were looking for was the very man who delivered such news. The very same man who always kindly helped them. The very same man who defended them from invaders. The battlefield hero and most trusted Royal Advisor to their beloved Prince. And they may never know that the true reason why the Prince had disappeared was due to the very same golden devil...

But they didn't need to know.

  
  


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**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚫●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Extra:** _
> 
> _Hannibal: Don't fail again, or I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you._
> 
> _Matthew: (Unconsciously trembles)_
> 
> A/N: In case you were wondering, I made Will and Hannibal only 3-4 years apart so that they could be close childhood friends. It seemed more of a natural number of years difference to me because I have a childhood friend and we're about the same years apart, and we're still good friends. But I do wonder how my friend would feel if they knew they were a sort of inspiration to Young Will's and Hannibal's interactions? LOL XD
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


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